


Fried Eggs and Mashed Potatoes

by ANewDawn (ShyLittleRose)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Animal Death, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blink and you’ll miss it, Brutal Misuse of a Potato, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dissociation, Everyone Needs Therapy, Gen, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Hint of Awesamdude, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Murder, Not Beta Read, Psychological Trauma, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyLittleRose/pseuds/ANewDawn
Summary: The obsidian box is either the best oven or the worst fridge. Either way, it sure ain’t the best place to keep people alive and sane.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Fried Eggs and Mashed Potatoes

**Author's Note:**

> I ain’t no apologist, but I refuse to not treat all of these characters as the fucked up traumatized people they are. So hope you enjoy!

For the first time, the room was almost completely silent, the constant dripping and ever present sizzling fading into the static. The static, an all consuming thing, leaving his body trembling and hollowed out. His legs felt sticky and bruised, and his stiff fingers gripped onto something slick and rough.

When Dream finally opened his eyes, lifting the object in his hands, he could only stare blankly at the white soft insides of the potato in his hand, nearly bursting with how tight he was holding it, contrast the dark red liquid. Past it, he noticed for the first time, he was sitting, legs folded almost neatly in the same liquid. Purple droplets swirling around from where they rained down into the pool. He had never seen such a vibrant pool before, his water, clear and unmoving and dull compared to the swirling mixture he had found himself at the edge of. The exhaustion clearing out the static as he noticed more and more. His eyes drifted forward unbidden, and everything stopped.

Blonde strands marked the other side, parts, darkened to an ugly reddish brown. Tommy splayed out on his back, like he was sleeping. His skin, a motley up purples, blues, and far too much red liquid. His eyes staring, haunting, accusing the ceiling above. Bits of brown skin and white potato smushed and scattered as his flickered back and forth, surveying this scene. He stared at the stained and mushy spud, unseeing.

“You’re a liar. And really, through your netherite armor and skin, and I look at you and you know what I see? I see a sad little man, who’s insecure about the fact that this server has gotten so far ahead of him and his only glimpse of power in this world is gone.”

He knew nothing.

“My life’s not in your hands, Dream. I know your not going to fucking do shit to me.”

How?

“I could kill you right now, if I wanted to”

Why didn’t he?

“I don’t think this revive book is real. Schlatt. He’s fuckin dead. I’ve seen his grave! His grave is real! His corpse is there!

Shut up.

“No!”

Shut up!

“NO!”

SHUT UP!

“STOP IT!”

SHUT UP!

“STOP I-”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHU-  


His head whipped around away from the splattered remains of the potato, of Tommy. On trembling arms and legs, he crawled towards gray and white (Oh ender more red, the smell of iron swarmed the room, digging its fangs into him), body shaking as he gathered up their hope, the body cold but fur still so soft. Hope was still here, and he laughed hysterically, clinging protectively in an attempt to warm it up. He pressed his wet face against the soft cold fur. He could still the hear screams, but it didn’t matter. 

After all, he wasn’t alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> At least Dream gets to keep his kitty, forever!


End file.
